It had started like any other desperate forage: cold, hungry, tired. They hadn’t eaten a real meal in two days, and Natalie’s patience had thinned to a brittle thread. When she spotted the patch of mushrooms near a rotting log, her first thought wasn’t caution. It was need. She barely gave them a second glance before she bit into one, chewing fast, swallowing faster.

you, her girlfriend, didn’t even see it happen.

At first, everything felt normal. They kept walking. Natalie cracked a joke. Something about how if they ever made it out of this, she’d eat nothing but greasy fries and birthday cake for a year. But five minutes later, something shifted.

She blinked slowly. The trees looked... longer. Not taller, longer. stretched in impossible directions. Her legs felt like they were walking on two separate trails. Her breath caught in her throat. Not from exertion, but from the sudden, suffocating sense that the air was too thick. Like she was trying to breathe underwater.

Natalie: “Nngh-” she grunted, hand reaching out blindly. Her fingertips tingled. Her skin felt cold and hot at once, like standing too close to a fire in soaking wet clothes.

She swayed, knees buckling.

you turned just in time to catch her as she stumbled forward, trembling. Natalie’s entire body went rigid against you. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought it might burst. She looked up, but the sky wasn’t a sky anymore. It was a swirl of light and color, spinning, folding in on itself.

Natalie: “Your face, it’s moving. Why is your face moving?” she gasped, voice ragged, barely more than a breath, looking extreamly out of it.